CHAPTER 7: THE WORLD ABOVE
Day 39.
Stepping through the threshold felt like breaking the surface of water after too long underwater.
Light—real light, golden and warm—flooded my vision. Air that moved, that carried scents I'd forgotten existed. Grass beneath my feet. Wind against my skin.
I stumbled.
"Kairos!" Raine's hand caught my arm. "Are you okay?"
"I..." I blinked, my eyes adjusting. "I forgot."
"Forgot what?"
"Everything."
We stood in a meadow. Wildflowers dotted the grass—purple, yellow, white. A stream ran nearby, its water so clear I could see stones at the bottom. Trees bordered the clearing, their leaves rustling in a breeze that smelled of earth and green things and life.
Above us, the sky stretched infinite and blue, and at its center—
"The sun," I whispered.
I'd seen it a thousand times in my old life. Taken it for granted. Complained about its heat, its glare, its interference with my commute.
Now I couldn't look away.
"Kairos?" Elara's voice was gentle. "Are you crying?"
I touched my face. Wetness. When had that happened?
"No," I said. "Yes. I don't know."
Liana, practical as always, was already scanning the horizon. "Borderlands, like I predicted. Those mountains to the east—that's the Dragon's Spine range. The Great Forest to the south. And if I'm not mistaken..." She squinted. "...there's a village about two miles north."
"Inhabited?" Kaia's hand rested on her katana.
"Looks like it. Small. Farming community, probably."
"Good." Elara straightened, her paladin's bearing returning. "We need information before we do anything else. Maps, rumors, news of the guild."
"And we need to look like travelers, not an invasion force." I wiped my face, regaining composure. "Liana, you're the scholar on an expedition. Elara, you're her bodyguard. Kaia, you're—"
"Hired sword." She nodded. "Makes sense."
"Raine, you're..." I paused. "Apprentice? Daughter? Something that explains your age."
"I'm not that young."
"You're nineteen."
"Twenty in three months!"
Elara hid a smile. "Apprentice works. Now, Kairos—what are you?"
I considered. "Patron. The one funding the expedition. Eccentric noble with an interest in antiquities."
"You don't look like a noble."
"I can adjust."
I concentrated. Dapper perk, again—but this time with more intention. My clothes shifted, becoming finer. Dark wool, silver buttons, a traveling cloak that looked expensive without being ostentatious. I added a signet ring, purely for show.
When I opened my eyes, four women were staring again.
"That," Kaia said slowly, "is mildly disturbing."
"Useful, though."
"Useful and disturbing. The best combination."
---
The village was called Millbrook.
It was exactly what I'd expected from a fantasy farming community: simple wooden houses, a central well, chickens running loose, and exactly one inn that served as the social hub for the entire population.
We drew stares as we walked in.
Four armed women and a well-dressed man wasn't a common sight in a place this small. But the stares weren't hostile—just curious. A farmer nodded as we passed. Children stopped playing to watch. An old woman sitting on her porch called out a greeting that Liana returned in the same language.
"What did you say?" I murmured.
"Blessings of the harvest. Standard rural greeting."
"You know the dialect?"
"I know all the dialects." She smiled. "Scholar, remember?"
The inn was warm and smoky, filled with the smell of roasting meat and something that might have been ale. A dozen locals looked up as we entered, assessed us as non-threatening, and returned to their conversations.
The innkeeper—a broad woman with arms like hams—wiped her hands on her apron. "Travelers? Don't get many this time of year."
"We're on an expedition," Liana said smoothly. "Studying old ruins in the area. We'll need rooms for the night, and information about the local terrain."
"Rooms I got. Information..." The innkeeper shrugged. "Depends what you're asking. I know the land, know the people, know which lords are fighting which lords this season. Beyond that, you'll want the trading post in Oakhaven. Three days east."
"Fighting?" Elara's voice was carefully casual. "We hadn't heard of any conflicts."
"Small stuff. Border disputes. The usual." The innkeeper waved a hand. "Nothing that'll trouble travelers, long as you stay on the main roads."
We exchanged glances. Small conflicts could mean anything—or nothing.
"We'll take three rooms," I said, stepping forward. "And whatever meal you're serving. And a round for the house—if that's acceptable."
The innkeeper's eyebrows rose. "Generous, for a stranger."
"I find generosity opens doors." I produced coins from my pocket—Liana had given me a handful before we left, explaining their value. "Does it open yours?"
She grinned. "For that kind of silver? I'll open any door you want. Sit down, travelers. Food's coming."
---
We ate.
I watched.
Four women who'd spent a month in Purgatory rediscovering the simple pleasure of a hot meal in a warm room. Elara cutting her meat with precision. Kaia eating methodically, her eyes always moving, always scanning. Liana making notes even as she chewed. Raine simply enjoying it, without pretense or strategy.
And around us, the daily life of Millbrook continued. Farmers complaining about taxes. A mother scolding her son for tracking mud. Two old men arguing about a card game played decades ago. Normal. Mundane. Precious.
This is what I guarded, I realized. Not just the world. This. Moments like this. People living their small, beautiful lives.
"You're doing that thing again," Raine said quietly.
"What thing?"
"The thing where you stare at nothing and look like you're carrying the weight of the world."
"I am carrying the weight of the world. Several worlds, actually."
"Then put it down for five minutes." She pushed a piece of bread toward me. "Eat something. Even if you don't need to. Just... be here. With us."
I looked at the bread. Looked at her.
"You're very wise for someone so young."
"I'm not—" She caught herself. "You're deflecting."
"I'm always deflecting. It's a skill."
But I took the bread. Bit into it. Chewed.
It was coarse and dense and slightly burnt.
It was the best thing I'd tasted in a thousand years.
---